


The Remarkable Rogers

by HunterByDayWhovianByNight



Category: Captain America (Movies), Great Gatsby- F. Scott Fitzgerald, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Adultery, Drinking, F/F, F/M, M/M, Movies- Alternate Universe, Partying, Period-Typical Homophobia, Smoking, The Great Gatsby - Freeform, The Roaring 20s
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-17
Updated: 2015-07-17
Packaged: 2018-04-09 20:21:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,208
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4362878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HunterByDayWhovianByNight/pseuds/HunterByDayWhovianByNight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Sam Wilson is sent to a mental asylum for his various mental health problems, he recounts the summer he moved to New York, his mysterious neighbor Steve Rogers, and the blossoming relationship between Rogers and his cousin Bucky.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Hey you guys! This is my first fanfiction on here (it will also be posted to Fanfiction.net under the pen name Hunterbyday-Whovianbynight). I really love this book/movie and I saw so many parallels to Stucky in it, so I just had to write it. I will post a new chapter every few days or every week. There will be about 13 chapters, including a prologue and an epilogue. I LOVE KUDOS AND COMMENTS.

Prologue

Sam Wilson sat in the office of his therapist, Dr. Banner, on a cold, New York night in December. Snow drifted onto the lake, grounds, and estate slowly; it was piling quickly. He gazed out the window and held his hand up to the window as he saw a small green light flicker at the very end of the dock in front of the estate. 

Dr. Bruce Banner glanced at Sam's files. Under "concerns" he read, "Morbidly alcoholic, insomniac, and aggressiveness." He looked up to the middle-aged man looking out of his window. He cleared his throat a bit to get his attention. Sam Wilson turned to face him, his eyes dark and heavy and tired, his entire demeanor sluggish and sloppy. 

"What are you feeling? Why are you here?" Dr. Banner implored, hoping to get an answer out of the stubborn man. 

"I don't know... I'm messed up in the head I guess. Back then, we drank to forget. I guess I continued that. It's not good. My whole life has just been so downhill since.." He stopped. 

"Since who, Mr. Wilson?"

"A man named..." He gave a short pause. "A man named Steve Rogers." Sam smiled at the memory of the charming, mysterious blond man who lived right next door to him. 

"Want to tell me about him?" 

"I couldn't. You wouldn't believe me. He lived his life so richly and extravagantly. It's almost like a fairy tale," Sam scoffed. He wandered slowly from the window to the sitting area where Dr. Banner sat. 

Bruce sighed a bit. Then, an idea sparked in his head. He reached for a notebook and a pen. "You used to be a writer, correct, Sam?"

"Yeah. Used to be is the key word there," he said as he flopped into a plushy armchair. It was almost comforting, a feeling he hadn't felt in years. 

"Well… Why don't you try again? Write about this Mr. Steve Rogers. You could keep it, burn it, give it to me. It's your story; do what you want with it," Bruce suggested positively. 

Sam looked at the pen and paper Clint held out. He hasn't written for pleasure in so long. How amazing to pen the story of the "Remarkable Rogers," as he called him in his head. Maybe it would be good for him. His hand grabbed the pen and paper immediately after that. Bruce smiled and knew that this was going to be the most interesting case he'd ever had in his practice. The page was filling up quickly, and Sam just couldn't get his words onto the paper fast enough. 

"It all started the summer I went to live in West Egg..."


	2. Chapter One: In the Beginning...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Chapter one here. I would like to say now that I do not own any of the characters, I am merely borrowing them for my story. I also take a bit of creative license with the characters and plot. I like kudos and comments!

_Twenty years ago..._

The stock market was booming. People were making thousands on stocks, and more people wanted to buy them. So, naturally, I left my home in Chicago and went to New York City, where I found a job selling stocks and bonds for a man named Walter Chase. 

I had gone to Yale and studied the classics, as I wanted to be a writer. That changed when the stock market rose, and I sought out greener pastures. I gave up my dream for a relatively cushy lifestyle, which was fine by me. I studied and read everything about economics and trading, to help immerse myself in my new career.

I also bought a little house, if you could call it that, in Long Island. It was more of a shack, an old groundskeeper's cottage from a forgotten mansion. My house was nestled between all the new-money homes, and looked out into the bay. They called my area "West Egg." My neighbor lived in a huge palace, looking across the bay. That man, I would later find out, was Mr. Rogers.

However, across the bay was East Egg. Old money families lived there, as well as my old family friend Peggy Carter and my cousin James Buchanan Barnes. We all called him Bucky.

They had invited me for dinner at their estate tonight, so I dressed in the best clothes I had, and jumped into a cab. When I arrived, I was positively awestruck at the vastness and the beauty of the mansion. The trees and bushes were trimmed, the lawns impeccable, and the flowers blooming. I hadn't seen such finery in my life. When I pulled up, I saw Peggy standing there, charming as ever, with her hands on her hips. I paid the cabbie and quickly got out of the cab. When I stepped out, she walked quickly over to me.

"Sammy!" She almost squealed as she wrapped me in a tight hug. It took me a bit by surprise, yet she was still strong as ever. Peggy had been riding horses, playing polo, and doing numerous other sports her whole life. Not to mention she was a large supporter in the suffrage movement a few years back. My cousin Buck was sure lucky to have her.

"Come in! Bucky can't wait to see you," Peggy said as she lead me up the stairs and into her home. We walked down a long hallway and past paintings and photos of her and Bucky. The rooms were nicely furnished and everything was opulent. All her trophies and banners adorned the walls as well.

Finally, we arrived in the large room at the end of the hall. Two servants opened the large, white French doors and inside were many open doors with the afternoon breeze blowing about the curtains. I saw the backs of two figures' heads sitting on a couch in front of me. They turned when they heard us enter the room.

"Sam, is that you, my cousin?" Bucky asked rhetorically. When Bucky spoke to you and looked at you, you could almost feel the charm exude from him. He smiled coyly, almost femininely. It was no lie to hide that he was a homosexual. I've known since the two of us were kids. But Buck was a good man; he was rich and successful, heir to a huge fortune. He always seemed so... Full of hope. "Do they miss me in DC?"

"They're killing themselves over the fact that you've gone. The women cry out, 'Bucky! Bucky! Return to us!' Their husbands are all ablaze," I joked along. Peggy laughed as she took a puff of her new cigarette. Bucky let out a small laugh and got up off the plush couch he sat on to come and give me a short hug.

"This is my friend, Natasha Romanoff. She's a famous golfer." He gestured to the serious, stern redhead still sitting on the couch.

"Hello," she said with a faint smirk. She was one of the most beautiful and most utterly terrifying women I've ever encountered. I guess she could tell I showed interest in her, and she winked at me after she gave me a once-over.

Natasha stood and stretched out. Bucky jumped over in front of her and said, "I'll have to get the two of you together, somehow! I'll push you into broom closets and out to sea in boats!" I chuckled a bit, and she just rolled her eyes at Bucky. Peggy looked a tad unamused.

"Oh my, Bucky. Don't get your ideas!" Peggy scoffed.

"I would love to have your life, Sammy," Bucky said as he lit a cigarette.

"Oh, Bucky. I live humbly. My little place is just under $100 a month," I said bashfully.

"Oh, Nick. I can't believe you have to live around them social-climbing new money types. They're all rotten and tricksters, I'll tell you that," Peggy said matter-of-factly as she waved around her cigarette.

"You live out in East Egg, don't you?" Natasha implored of me. "I was at a party there. For a man called Rogers."

Bucky's head whipped around, his pompadour lightly swaying. He let out in a shakey, surprised voice, "Rogers?" I chuckled.

"I actually live right next door to him."

We were stopped short. "The dinner is servi!" The servant said. We all stood up and followed him into the small dining area. It was a short rectangle table, with a single chair on each side. There were crystal glasses for our drinks, fine china to eat off of, and silver-plated utensils. We had a fine wine with our dinner, and after a few glasses, that's when secrets and gossip started to pour out. I had learned about all the mistresses and lovers of the upper class, the bastard children, the family secrets, and much more. We laughed and joked throughout the dinner. I was fitting in with this crowd better than I thought I would.

"Did you know, that men are psychologically driven to control others? They want to be leaders and rulers and controllers- they don't allow any room for women, the so-called weaker sex, to rise! It's absolute madness," Peggy exclaimed. She paced around the table as she talked, her baby blue dress swinging about her ankles and her low, grey heels clicking against the white streaked marble floor.

"Peggy has been reading suffragette papers and has been expanding her mind. It's all very poetic," Bucky said with a sly wink and a faux-interested tone. Natasha had to choke back a laugh as she took a sip of her wine.

Peggy opened her mouth to continue, but the telephone rang. All of our heads shot to the ringing noise from the next room over. Bucky looked at the floor and let out a slow breath as he closed his eyes. I wondered to myself what on earth was going on. Nobody answered it. But a few seconds later, it rang again. The fifth, shrill guest wanted us to pay attention to it like you would an animal.

"Buchanan residence, who's calling?" The servant said as he answered the phone. "One moment, please." The servant ducked into the room. "Ah, Mrs. Buchanan? Phone for you." Peggy froze. Natasha lifted her hand to take a drink. Bucky's eyes flitted around the room, not bearing to gaze upon Peggy. She clutched her glass tightly to her chest, and walked into the room where the phone was waiting for her to pick up. We heard her muttering into the phone, her voice picking up at certain times. Bucky loosened his gold tie, unbuttoned the top button of his shirt, and sat up from the table. He stormed into the next room, flinging the door open before the servant had a chance to open it. They began to shout at each other, but tried to keep it hushed enough so that we wouldn't hear.

Natasha had a different idea. She leaned over the table and peered into the room. "What's happening?" I asked her.

"Sh! I'm trying to hear what they have to say to each other," Natasha whispered.

"Is something going on?" 

"I thought everyone knew!" Natasha exclaimed, her short red curls shaking as she said so.

"Knew what?"

Natasha sighed. "Well, rumour is is that Peggy's got some woman in the city." 

"Some woman?" I said. I was shocked. One never would've guessed that Peggy Carter-Buchanan, golden girl and suffragette, would be having an affair. An affair with a woman, too, at that.

Before she could reply, Bucky and Peggy walked into the room and sat back down in their respective chairs. Dessert and coffee were completed in dead silence. You could feel Bucky's lividity rising off of his skin, Natasha's faux-naïveté of the situation, Peggy's embarrassment. Even the servants knew what was going on. It showed in their movements, like they didn't want to disturb the fragile peace of the room. Like one wrong step could have someone lash out at them. Who was this woman that had so encompassed Peggy's mind?

Later that night, I arrived at home. As I was about to step into my door, I saw a strange figure on the end of the dock in front of the palace. I could only guess it was Rogers. He reached out to a blinking, green light from all the way across the bay. All the way from Bucky's house.

Silently, I entered my house and locked the front and back doors. Peggy had wanted to go into the city with me the next morning, so I needed to get to bed as early as possible.

That night, I dreamt of the green light.


	3. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long! School has started and I wasn't feeling all too inspired. Here it is!

Peggy and I were on the the train into the city at around 9:30. She wore a navy skirt suit and a crimson fedora with a thick black band. Her legs were crossed at the ankles, and on her feet were black heels. She gazed out the window, looking at all the buildings we passed. 

It was somewhat beautiful as we puffed along, until we got to a place just outside the city, where everyone dumped trash, memories, and other things they wanted to forget. It was the valley of ashes. The men there were forgotten, unnamed, and faceless. The dirt and ashes covered the skin of the workers and seemed to make them move slower and more sluggishly. A large, weathered blue billboard with eyes painted on and glasses that stuck out of it looked over this valley of ashes. It was for an old and forgotten oculist, TJ Eckelman. His eyes were like the eyes of God. 

The train stopped. Peggy jumped up and started walking out of our booth. 

"Hey! Where are you going, Peg?" I asked as I followed her. I shoved past people and the conductor. By the time I caught up with her, she had removed her heels and jumped out of the train. The conductor yelled at her to get back on as it started to move. 

"Come on, Sam!" She yelled at me from the ground. I hesitated to get off, but ultimately made the decision to hop off and join her. She squealed and put her heels back on and started to walk to a garage. 

"Mrs. Buchanan! You gonna sell me that car soon?" The man working at the garage asked. He had dark brown hair and a goatee, and his shirt was matted with sweat. 

"I'm getting someone to fix it up at the moment, Tony," Peggy laughed a bit. Then, I heard heels clicking down the spiral set of stairs. They belonged to a voluptuous woman wearing a red dress with ruffles that swung when she walked. Her blonde hair was cut short, and she had bangs. 

"Pepper! Entertain our guests while I get us all a little something," Tony shouted as he walked into the next room. 

Peggy got close to Pepper. "You cannot be calling my home! Do you know what kind of trouble we could both get in?" She hissed at the other woman. She looked unfazed by the situation entirely. 

"Can we get the cat for the apartment?" Pepper asked as she batted her eyes. 

"Whatever you want, sweetheart." Sweetheart?! Where was this coming from?

"Do you two want a pop?" Tony called over to us. 

"No! We're gonna be on our way," Peggy shouted back. Then, she whispered to Pepper, "Get on the next train and call your sister. I think Sam'll like her." She handed her a few bills. 

"I'll see you there," Pepper winked at Peggy. I was shocked. What was this?! Bucky being a homosexual, I got. But Peggy? I never would’ve guessed it from her.

\----------

The moans and creaking of the bed in the next room were loud and simply unbearable. I heard one of the women- I didn’t know who- yelp loudly. As the moans picked up, the more uncomfortable and uneasy I got. I shifted awkwardly in my seat, and cast a glance to the cat that Peggy had bought Pepper from a young girl selling kittens near the apartment. 

Speaking of the apartment, it was almost as opulent as the manse Peggy lived in. The wallpaper was cream, and the furnishings were chartreuse and navy. There were lilies placed in tall, china vases. The heavy navy curtains had been pulled back to reveal the city, as well as the busy street and apartments surrounding us.

The door to the room Peggy and Pepper were in opened. Pepper exited first, her strawberry blonde hair ruffled and unkempt. She glanced back at Peggy as she sexily wiped her lip with her right thumb. Peggy lit her cigarette and took a puff. 

“Hey, uh, Peggy? I think I should go now. I don’t feel too comfortable here…” I stammered. I tried to walk backwards towards the door as they insisted I stay for longer. 

Just then, the door opened. I spun to face the new guest- a young woman who looked like Pepper, but with longer, curlier hair. She walked into the sitting room and beelined for Pepper. They did that silly scream that women do when they see each other, and hugged each other loosely. I figured it was her sister. 

Two others, a man and a woman, followed her. They were holding hands, must’ve been a couple. The man had curly dark blond hair and wore a pale blue suit and a white boater, the woman had pin-straight brown hair that whisked about her shoulders and wore a turquoise dress that had red lace decorating the fabric covering her collarbone.

“No! You must stay! Jemma, Leo, and Bobbi just arrived!” Pepper said forlornly. They all shouted at me to stay longer. I guess one or two drinks wouldn’t hurt…

\----------

I was completely and totally drunk. I hadn’t ever been this drunk before. The room was spinning and the walls seemed to be fluctuating in time with the big brass band playing on the record that was in the player. All trumpets and trombones, and the screams of excitement from the other people that filled our own little world.

Somehow, I managed to find myself at the window, looking out over the loud and bustling city. The red and white and yellow lights flickered and shown in a sea of black, and Times Square was like a comic strip with all the different advertisements lining the buildings. The noise faded out and became the dullest of noises; it was only then when I heard a young man playing trumpet in one of the flats across from me. I turned to find him, standing on the balcony on the flat directly across from ours. Our own little world completely unknown to everyone in the bustling city all around.

In some haze, I saw myself. Out on the corner of the street, looking into my little world and smirking at me. I tipped my hat at myself and turned the corner as I sat in the window in disbelief. I was both within and without.  
I have no idea how I got home, but when I awoke, I was wearing nothing but my underwear and my straw boater with my suit jacket haphazardly around me. I shot up, confused, and looked around my surroundings. When I looked over to Gatsby’s castle, and I saw a figure quickly rustle away from the curtains as if in a hurry, I knew in my gut that this had something to do with him

With Gatsby.


End file.
